Cool runnings

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Where the rats smile at you like children before an ice cream feast
Where cock roaches hiss like the harmony of a church choir right before repentance
A soul on the devil’s plated, seasoned with hate and greed, a feast for the damned
A priest with your heart in his hand, promising purgatory
Fire ants crawling right under your skin like a wave of volcanic lava
Sitting in a foxhole watching the scavengers feast on what is left of humanity
Laying in the dark with shadows for company, spirits lost between death and living
Dreaming where you live or living in a dream you wish you can forget.